


The Man With The Blackbird Tattoos

by EbethBeatlebub



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Art, Bars and Pubs, Identity Reveal, M/M, McLennon Big Bang 2020, Mentions of Elvis Presley Songs, Music, Nude Modeling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:00:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27266842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EbethBeatlebub/pseuds/EbethBeatlebub
Summary: My entry for the 2020 Mclennon Big BangJohn has been slacking off on his art assignment for Uni, and decides to take the easy route by drawing from model references online. He ends up with quite a crush on one particular model... A handsome young man with blackbird tattoos on his side. It's too bad he'll probably never meet him though, right?Art by Aristrela
Relationships: John Lennon/Paul McCartney
Comments: 12
Kudos: 57





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ended up being a three parter instead of two, but that's okay. I'm very happy to have this opportunity to do my very first BB, and also keep a look out for more of stuff by Aristrela because she is awesome!  
> (on mobile I suggest changing to desktop site for the art size)

"He's beautiful," John whispered as the first image loaded up on his screen. From the thumbnail on the website he'd known the page for this particular model would be worth clicking, but full sized the images were definitely better. He'd initially come to this site with the intent to gain art references for his well overdue portfolio assignment. It was nearly the end of the year and he'd already asked for two extensions on it, and yet here he was staring at anonymous nudes instead of using them for their actual purpose. Well, he may be failing and in debt but he was still only a man after all. His eyes scanned up and down the gorgeous model. He was standing facing away from the camera and had his arms up over his head. John took in each detail longingly, from the unique arch of his feet, to the shapely dark haired legs and thighs, and up further past the hips. His eyes lingered on the pale soft backside of the man for longer than he was proud of, then he continued up. He silently clicked to see the next image, a different pose and this time from the front and sitting on a wooden chair. 

"Oh wow," John's heart fluttered. The model had a gorgeous tattoo of two flying blackbirds on his right hand side, just above his hips. He flicked his eyes up immediately to see the face-

"Ah... Right,"

It was an anonymous website, so all the faces were censored and so the model had a black cloth tied around his upper face. Despite that he could still admire how soft his lips looked and the perfect shape of his nose. John almost right clicked and saved the photo, but quickly decided against that. He pulled his eyes away from the screen for a few seconds and rubbed his face to snap out of it. 

"Come on now, John, you came to work not to jerk," he muttered to himself then took a deep breath. After he was done working today he was definitely due for a trip to the pub. He'd been cooped up for too long if an art reference was doing things to him. 

Turning back to the website, he opened up a couple of the images in different tabs and grabbed his sketch pad to get to work. After a while he was able to focus on the actual art, though it took some effort, and before he knew it his artistic urges had taken over his sexual ones. Honestly there was nothing better than being really in the zone. It was rare for him nowadays, due mainly to the dreariness of school and his quickly increasing debts. Perhaps he'd simply needed to be inspired by something. Did developing a hopeless crush on a faceless nude model count as being inspired? Well it must count, considering that John didn't realise that he'd been sketching for hours until it was suddenly so dark that he was using the light from his laptop screen to see his sketch pad. He'd been too busy stupidly blushing, smiling, and scribbling. He

had to get up to finally use the restroom at some point and that's when he'd noticed. Checking out the time on his laptop screen he noted it was too late to go out, but late enough that he really ought to get to sleep.

***

About three days later the wall just above John's desk in his office had become cluttered with pictures he'd drawn of this model. He'd not even bothered looking for anything or anyone else as a reference. This was his inspiration and motivation to be productive, this black bird man. He smiled softly as he turned another page in his sketchbook. Then realised that he was nearly out of pages. Well, all the hundreds of balled up failed sketches plus the ten or more pages pinned up on his wall would probably be the explanation for that. Maybe he should go get some more... 

"I think I've been productive enough to actually deserve a break," he muttered to himself. He checked the time. It wasn't too late, only 7pm. He could definitely ring a cab since he had enough for fare. Also, the bar downtown was still serving food for another two hours, and he didn't need to do laundry so he had clothes for the occasion. He smirked at the model on the laptop screen, 

"Lucky little thing aren't you? Everything's been going well since I met you," he joked, "Maybe you can get me a date. Do you take requests? Reckon you can do that?" 

He chuckled at his own bad joke then left to get ready. 


	2. Chapter 2

The bar was mercifully not too packed. John was able to find a seat near the bar, beer in hand and awaiting on his order of chips. He laid back in his booth seat and took a deep breath. The combined smell of food, booze, cheap perfume and sweat was a sorely missed one, as was the buzzing chatter and laughter. He took a sip from his bottle and scanned the crowd, not for anyone in particular, just to observe. Some of the best ideas came from spying or eavesdropping on strangers. Maybe he'd pick up an idea from something or someone  _ other  _ than  _ you know who. _

He didn't see anything or anyone yet, but the night was young and he had time. He closed his eyes for a moment, just losing himself in the music and atmosphere. It was about a halfway through his beer that anything of note happened, 

"Your chips," a perky wait staff announced, setting down the huge basket before him. 

He jerked up but kept a straight face, nodding and thanking her as she left for another table.  _ God damn  _ this was way too large a serve. It looked like it'd be better shared with someone else... 

"Waiting on someone?" another voice asked. 

John looked up from his chips to see the face of the man sitting in the booth in front of him. He'd only seen the back of his head up til that point but  _ now _

_ 'Wow',  _ he thought. Talk about drop dead gorgeous. Lucky he hadn't picked up a chip yet or else he'd have dropped it, much like his jaw currently was. 

"Uh...."

The man cracked a nervous smile, "Sorry, sorry, I didn't mean to pry. Just that's a whole lotta chips, so I suppose I just figured..." he bit his lip and trailed off. 

John ripped his gaze away from the man and had a look at  _ his  _ table. Three empty beer bottles, a torn up napkin or two, a bit of receipt paper with doodles all over it, and a single wilted flower. Oh dear... John had a feeling he knew exactly how his night had gone so far. The man seemed to pick up on John's realisation. 

"Ha, yeah, suppose that's what I get for arranging a date online, innit?" he laughed, taking it rather well, "Not the first time I've been stood up. But I wish I'd had a mind to order some food earlier," 

John felt pure  _ injustice  _ at the idea that such a gorgeous man had been stood up before. Furthermore he could easily see the  _ perfect  _ solution. 

"Hey, I'm not gonna finish all this, don't waste your money," he offered.

The man tinted pink around the cheeks, hiding a chuckle behind his hand, "Oh dear, I didn't mean- no, I wasn't," he floundered about cutely. 

"No  _ really,  _ I insist. Anyroad it'll be a waste of  _ my  _ money if I can't finish it all," John insisted. 

Biting his lip again, eyeing John curiously, the man seemed to be considering his options. 

"Oh, alright," he said, smiling despite himself. He got up and  _ woah  _ what long legs he had. John couldn't believe his  _ luck  _ tonight. 

The man sat down across the way from him and then extended a hand. 

"Paul, by the way," he said with a polite smile. John took it, noting the sweaty palms, and it put him at ease to know he wasn't the only one who was nervous here. 

"John," he said, "Now go on, have at it before it's gone cold," 

Paul smiled brightly and then took two chips and ate them whole. Definitely been hungry for a while now, eh? John tucked in himself, and soon they devolved into conversation. It was a conversation that lead to the bottom of the chips basket, to the bottom of a few more beers, and soon they were laughing and grinning, totally relaxed and enthralled with one another. It was only a matter of time before shoes began to brush up against one another, hands began bumping together when they'd forget which beer was who's. 

"Oh!" Paul suddenly sat up mid conversation, a grin on his face, "Wouldja listen to that," 

John stopped to hear what Paul must have been distracted by, and at first didn't know what the deal was until surely enough, 

_ "A well'a bless my soul _

_ What'sa wrong with me? _

_ I'm itchin' like a man in a fuzzy tree _

_ My friends say I'm actin' wild as a bug _

_ I'm in love _

_ I'm all shook up"  _

The two men beamed at one another, both clearly pleased with the shift in music. 

"You like Elvis?" John asked, 

"Absolutely," Paul laughed, "I love  _ all  _ the old rockers," 

Warm feelings filled up John's belly as his unexpected company continued to thrill and delight him. It was so lonely not having any others to talk music with. Just as he thought this, the music suddenly stopped. 

Paul glanced up at the speakers, confused, and then it was as if someone had changed the station. Elvis disappeared and on instead came  _ the  _ most auto-tuned, soulless party drivel possible. Whereas  _ they _ were disappointed, it appeared the rest of the bar was quite happy with this change. Several people even got up and the sounds of drunken cheering got louder. 

Paul grimaced at John, "Well, that didn't last long, did it?" 

"Ah... what can you expect? Bugger them I say," 

Then, an idea sprang to mind, "Say, why don't we blow this place?" 

Paul looked up hopefully, "Where to?" 

Sweating a bit, not sure if this was a good idea, John slipped his phone out of his pocket to check the time. 

"Well, if the good music isn't going to come to us, we may as well go to  _ it.  _ I've got buttloads of records back at me dorm, if you wanted," 

"Really? You sure?" 

John shrugged, "Don't see why not. Can't be bothered sticking around here much longer anyway. It's not like we're trying to get dates or anything," 

"No, haha, I've had enough of being stood up for one night," Paul agreed. 

As if they'd have a chance getting  _ dates  _ anyway, right?

*** 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! Part two of the art is up next. Thanks again to Aristrela for letting me take up this BB opportunity with her!


	3. Chapter 3

John's dorm wasn't far a walk, and the two arrived not long after leaving, chatting the whole way. He didn't exactly mean to brag, but by the time they got in the door, Paul was very hyped up to see his rock collection. When John pulled out the massive crate of records he had from out of the cupboard Paul's eyes lit up and he knelt down immediately, eager to sift through them all. John felt himself getting more and more attracted by the second. Every smile in his direction, every time they'd finish the other's sentence. Eventually they managed to force themselves past the  _ 'looking at records and gushing' _ part and moved on to actually listening. They had to keep the volume down, but nonetheless it was definitely better than the bar.

They cycled through Chuck Berry, Little Richard, and of course good old Elvis; the man to spark it all off. 

At some point, after a couple more drinks, John started to get a little more bold, brushing up closer with Paul, leaning in more, arm thrown around his shoulders. Paul didn't seem to mind. He too seemed to be loosening up. He'd gone from polite and amicable stranger to a clever (if a bit inebriated) and witty flirt.

"Yknow, ye sort of look a bit like Elvis," John commented, unashamed. 

Paul chuckled, his nose crinkling up, "Oh come off it," 

"No! You  _ do _ !" John insisted, leaning closer and staring right into his eyes, "I don't just kiss arse and say shite like that ta  _ anyone _ , yknow" 

Paul was clearly flattered, though he tried to pretend to be modest. He was soaking it all up, John could tell. Luckily he was more than happy to supply him with it. 

"Yer so... good lookin'," he said, eyeing him up and down. You know there was something really...  _ familiar _ about him. John didn't know if it was just the booze, or whatnot but the longer he'd been in Paul's company the more he got the feeling he'd seen him somewhere before. John continued on, trying to tear his eyes away from those plush red lips. 

"An' ye sing... ye like me music, and we can actually  _ talk _ about stuff, and," he trailed off running a hand up his leg, 

" _ Christ _ , a bloke like you shouldn't be stood up at a bar for hours," 

Paul was silent for a moment, his eyes trailing John's hand. Then he dragged them away to look back up at him. There they sat, John half on top of him with a hand on his thigh, and Paul finding it harder to not lean closer too. 

"Hey," John asked, pulling out his phone, "It's getting err, bit late. Ye don't need a ride home do ya?" 

Paul glanced down at the mobile phone and then back up again. He slowly smiled 

"Not unless you're coming with me," he said, leaning forward. John had a feeling Paul knew that he wasn't going to  _ call for a cab.  _ Paul knew what was up. 

Then, the track on the record changed, putting the last piece in place. 

_ "Hey! A little less conversation, a little more action, _

_ All this aggravation, ain't satisfactioning me"  _

The voice of Elvis urged them on from the speakers by the record player. John tossed his phone away and swivelled to sit on Paul's lap, facing him. It didn't take long for the distance to close between their faces; sloppy beer flavoured kisses and roaming hands taking over since words were just not enough anymore. John got up despite Paul trying to keep him down, but when he grabbed him by the hand, he understood. Getting up too he followed John to his bedroom and they began to undress, John pulling off his red jumper, and Paul reaching down to pull his shirt over his head. 

**_THEN..._ **

**__ **

John froze on the spot, his eyes snapping directly towards the flash of black inked skin showing across Paul's side and stomach.  _ 3,000,000 thoughts _ ran through John's head and about as many feelings too, then he bolted to the other side of the room while Paul was distracted, taking off his shoes. He closed the door to his office shut so that Paul wouldn't see the maybe  _ twenty or so sketches and drawings he'd done of HIM hung all over the god-damn wall.  _

That done, he spun back around on his heels, Paul seemingly not having noticed anything. 

"Need help with yours?" Paul asked him, noting that John was still wearing his shirt. 

"yEs- Uh...  _ ahem _ , Yes" he tried to stay cool. 

_ 'It's him, it's him, it's him, it's him' _

Paul strode over and with a wicked smile began to undo his buttons, his hips swaying to whatever song was playing now that John couldn't hear at ALL over his OWN HEART BEAT. 

By all means he should be turned off right? This was  _ way _ too weird right? This could not possibly be happening. 

But no, it was happening, and there was Paul lowering his head to leave hot wet kisses all over every inch of chest and stomach that was revealed as he undid the buttons. There was Paul, sliding the sleeves off his arm and then leaning in, pushing John against the door behind him.

"Oh  _ Johnny _ ," he moaned, their lips touching but not quite kissing. John's nipples hardened, Paul likely feeling it happen since their chests were flush. He moaned back non-verbally and his hips thrust forward on their own. Arms snaked around one another and the kissing continued. John decided to not think. Just don't think, just  _ do _ . He walked them both forward and then pushed Paul onto the bed before kneeling down to undo the man's belt and fly. 

" _ Oh fuck yes _ "... 

This was definitely a night for  _ doing _ and not  _ thinking _ . 

***

The next morning, after quite a messy and admittedly hazy night, Paul was the first to wake up. Who would have been able to predict his luck? Out of a job, stood up on a date for the third time in a year, down on his luck enough he literally had to sell nudes for spare money, and yet he  _ finally _ seemed to have something go right for him. 

He turned on his side to see John still sleeping. He was twisted into a peculiar position, probably comfortable  _ now _ but he was willing to bet he'd be sore when he woke up. Paul smiled fondly, remembering the events of the night. It'd been not exactly the  _ best _ sex, seeing as they'd been so intoxicated, but it'd been nice. That thrill, the feeling of being with someone. He carefully traced his hand up the sleeping man's side and then leaned forward to kiss him gently before getting up. 

Pity he didn't remember where the bathroom was. He didn't need to go necessarily but he sort of felt icky now and wanted to wash up while he waited for John to get up too. 

_ Oh? _

He spied a door connected to the bedroom. Well, it seemed a bit odd for a university dorm to have an  _ ensuite _ , but stranger things had happened. He quietly got out of the bed and made his way over to the-

... 

_ Hmm _ . That's not an ensuite. It was a little office and above the desk was a whole wall of pictures. He'd heard John say he was an artist actually. Hopefully he wouldn't mind if he had a closer look, right? He stepped further in a bit, squinting his still sleepy eyes to see... twenty or so sketches and drawings of...  _ himself.  _ Oh. OH.  _ OHHH NO _ . 

Paul wheezed and clung to the door so as not to fall. He felt like his leg bones had been stolen and all that was left was the meat and his stomach was suddenly churning. He was sweating and trying to not make any sudden noises, lest he wake the sleeping creep up. Fuck, fuck FuCk. Why couldn't  _ ANYTHING  _ go right in his life? 

He slid to the floor and then scooted away from the office. God  _ damn it  _ he never should have taken up that modelling gig, for crying out loud! You'd think that the censorship measures would... would... 

He turned back to look at John. Hold on a moment. That  _ can't _ be the reason he took him home! Christ, his  _ face was covered _ in all the pictures! He couldn't have known who he was, no one could. 

His hands flew up to his head and he began laughing as quietly as he possibly could. Tears streamed down his face as the horrible panic fled his system and left him light-headed and silly. He looked back at the drawings all pinned up on the wall, feeling a  _ lot  _ better now. He got up and had a closer look.  _ Damn _ . John drew him better looking than he actually  _ was _ . He felt like he should be offended or creeped out but really? It was kinda funny. 

He stepped into the office and closed the door behind him. 

***

John woke up to find no one by his side. Disappointment was an understatement, (he was reluctant to say 'heartbreak' though, no need to be dramatic). If it wasn't for the smell, the tousled sheets, and the clothes on the floor, he'd have assumed Paul was-

_ Wait _ . 

Paul's clothes were on the floor? Then he was still here,  _ right _ ?? 

John sat up suddenly, his heart racing and sweat beading up all over him. He looked at the office door connected to his room. It was closed still, thank God. He had time probably to take down all those damn sketches and pretend they never existed before Paul found them. That way, he could have him over again and not have to worry. 

He opened up the door... 

"So," Paul muttered, sat in John's office chair, butt naked with a leg crossed over the other. His smile was smug, and he glanced down at his nails like it was nothing, "You're an artist, are you?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HOPE YOU HAD FUN! I know I sure did haha. Til next time, my pretties!  
> /wicked witch laugh


End file.
